


Spider-Man: Joke's On You

by d0d0bird



Series: Marvel: Tales to Tantalize! [8]
Category: Alias (Comics), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alcoholic Jessica Jones, Electrocution, Embarrassed Peter Parker, Embarrassment, Friendship, Gen, Humiliation, Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Its a Metaphorical Adoption But Still, Jessica Jones Adopts Peter Parker, POV Peter Parker, Peter Parker Actually Treats Mary Jane Like a Human Being, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Public Humiliation, Rejection, Ridicule, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Situational Humiliation, Social Humiliation, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation, wedgie, wedgies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 17:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21285116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0d0bird/pseuds/d0d0bird
Summary: Spider-Man is witty, well liked, and even flirtatious at times. Peter Parker on the other hand...Mary Jane thinks the solution is to have Peter perform stand up comedy. Unfortunately, she may have overestimated her boyfriend's ability to handle himself in front of a crowd.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Jessica Jones, Peter Parker/Mary Jane Watson
Series: Marvel: Tales to Tantalize! [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507763
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Spider-Man: Joke's On You

Gunshots rang out across the street. Four police officers were crouched behind a pair of squad cars, sidearms at the ready. Across the street, Mack and his buddies fired from behind a car of their own.

“You’ll never take us alive!” screamed Mack.

“How many bullets could these guys possibly have!?” asked one officer.

One of their radios crackled as a transmission came in.

“This is Captain DeWolff. All officers stand down!” she said, “Repeat: stand down!”

“She can’t be serious,” said one officer, “They’ll get away!”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” called a voice from above.

The officers all looked up to see Spider-Man crawling down the side of the building.

“Hold your fire,” said Spider-Man, “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Tell that to them!” shouted one officer.

“I fully intend to,” said Spider-Man, shooting a web to the building across the street and swinging toward Mack and the others.

“It’s Spider-Man!” shouted one gunmen.

“Shoot him!” shouted another.

“Whoops! Can’t let that happen!” joked Spider-Man, swiftly webbing each of their hands to the car along with their guns.

“What gives, Mack!?” shouted one, “I thought you said he was just some kid!”

“Aw, Mack!” said Spider-Man sarcastically, “Don’t tell me you’ve been spreading rumors about me!”

“It’s no rumor!” shouted Mack angrily, trying to free his hand from the webbing, “I’m telling you, when he came to my place with that bitch-”

“Ah, ah, ah,” tisked Spider-Man, blasting a web into Mack’s face and muffling his voice, “Watch your language, Mack.”

The officers had walked around the car by then and were beginning to apprehend the criminals one by one, cuffing them and leading them to a car down the road for their arrest. Spider-Man swung down along with them and met up with Captain DeWolff, who was overseeing the arrests.

“Thanks for your help,” she said.

“Always willing to lend a hand!” said Spider-Man.

“I’ve noticed,” she grunted, “The press is here if you want to speak to them.”

“Uh,” said Spider-Man, tilting his head, “I don’t know if you’ve caught on to this, but I don’t exactly have a great relationship to the press.”

“This is your chance to change that.”

“You think so?”

“Hell if I know,” shrugged DeWolff, “but they want to talk to someone and I’m not in the mood.”

Spider-Man looked over at the press in question. It was a small gathering of journalists. The shootout had not lasted long enough for full news crews to arrive. Spider-Man recognized the woman at the front of the group as Betty Brant, his coworker from The Daily Bugle. The Bugle had certainly not been sympathetic to Spider-Man in the past, but Betty seemed like a decent woman. Maybe this was worth a shot.

“Howdy!” greeted Spider-Man cheerily, leaping over and landing directly in front of Betty.

The entire group began asking overlapping questions as camera flashes flooded Spider-Man’s vision to the point of dizziness.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said loudly, “One at a time. You, the young lady in the front. What’s your name?”

“Betty Brant, Daily Bugle,” she said quickly clicking the record button on her mic, “Spider-Man, you are well known to pointedly avoid direct questioning from reporters. What makes today any different?”

“Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you?” chuckled Spider-Man, “Well most reporters have historically given me a hard time. I was hoping you might be an exception.”

“No promises, Spider-Man,” grinned Betty confidently, “I report the truth, no matter how uncomfortable it is.”

“I know,” nodded Spider-Man, “I’ve seen your work. That Oscorp story was something else.”

“Flattery won’t help your chances,” she smiled.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying!”

Betty chuckled and raised the microphone up to Spider-Man.

“Can you speak to your relationship to the NYPD?” she asked, “Some are saying your vigilante actions delegitimize the police. Others say that by working alongside them you jeopardize countless criminal cases by violating civil liberties.”

“Uh…” began Spider-Man.

“I’ll tell you about his relationship to the NYPD!” shouted an officer, storming over to them.

“Oh boy,” sighed Spider-Man, fully expecting this to end poorly.

“He’s a no-good menace that gets in the way of good officers!” he shouted.

“Come on, Max,” whispered Betty, “We’ve talked about this…”

_Huh,_ realized Spider-Man, _So this is Max._

Betty had mentioned her boyfriend before at work. She had told them about how he was a police officer who had strong feelings about her stories. Betty had historically been pretty critical of the NYPD, as she had been with everyone, and apparently that had rubbed Max the wrong way. 

“I’m not going to stand on the sidelines while some FREAK besmirches the good name of our men and women in blue!” shouted Max emphatically.

“Relax, Maxie!” said Spider-Man, “Can I call you Maxie?”

Betty chuckled again.

“Shove it!” shouted Max, pointing an angry finger as Spider-Man.

“Max, calm down,” said Betty, lowering her mic and hushing her tone, “You’re making a scene.”

“Officer Dillon!” shouted DeWolff from down the street, “Get over here! You don’t have press clearance.”

Max took a moment to stare Spider-Man down before walking off angrily. Spider-Man turned back to Betty. She let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said quietly, raising her mic again, “Where were we?”

***

Peter had just finished stuffing the spider suit into his backpack when he felt his phone buzz. He checked it and opened the message.

**Hey dumbass**

Peter replied.

**PP: Good evening to you too, Jessica**

**JJ: Your hats been in my apartment for weeks now**

**PP: My ESU one? Sorry, I’ll pick it up tonight**

**JJ: No I have it with me at Eds pub**

**PP: Now?**

**JJ: Yes or I’m leaving it here**

Peter quietly groaned in frustration as he quickly unpacked his suit from his backpack and slipped it back on. He’d have to travel as Spider-Man to get to Ed’s Pub in less than an hour. That hat had cost him $40 at orientation and he didn’t trust Jessica to wait for him to pick it up before leaving. He fired a web and swung off.

He arrived in an alley behind the bar and changed out of his costume and back into his street clothes. He snuck back around the front and walked in. He saw Jessica at one of the barstools, a glass of whiskey in her hand and the hat placed on the stool next to her.

“Jessica!” he waved as he walked up to her.

“Hey kid,” she nodded.

“What are you doing here?” asked Peter, grabbing his hat.

“I’m meeting a client here,” she said, “later tonight.”

“Cool.”

“I saw you finally put Mack away.”

“Ha!” recalled Peter, “Yeah, I did. I guess it was bound to happen eventually.”

Betty had apparently published her story already.

“Weird move you pulled with that reporter, though.”

“Excuse me?”

“Charming her, telling jokes,” said Jessica, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were flirting.”

“I _was_ flirting.”

“You can’t flirt.”

“I WAS!”

“Without Red’s help? No way.”

Peter had shown some mild level of game with extensive help from Mary Jane, but beyond that Jessica had never heard of him successfully wooing anyone.  


“Spider-Man is actually pretty charming,” sighed Peter, “It’s Peter Parker who’s a mess… How long have you been here?” 

Peter eyed two empty glasses beside Jessica’s current one.

“Don’t worry about it,” dismissed Jessica.

“I really think we should talk about-”

“Relax,” sighed Jessica, “My tolerance is like fifty times the average person’s or something.”

“But-”

“Hey!” shouted Jessica to a bartender, “Wanna hear how I met this kid?”

“Sure thing,” smiled the bartender.

“Jessica!” whispered Peter fearfully.

The bartender was a wide set woman with short blonde hair. She wore a tight white shirt and suspenders hooked to black skinny jeans. Peter thought she seemed cool just by looking at her. He really didn’t want her to hear this story.

“So I’m looking into this photojournalist, right?” Jessica began, smiling deviously, “And I find out that he goes to school at Empire State University. So I’m walking around campus looking for him when I see _this_ kid surrounded by all these jocks, and they go up to him and -I kid you not- give him a legit nuclear wedgie!”  


“No!” gasped the bartender with a huge smile.

“Jessica!” shouted Peter indignantly, turning red.

“They sure did!” laughed Jessica, “Lifted him clear off the ground! They even hung him up by his tighty whities like in the movies!”

“They were compression shorts,” corrected Peter under his breath.

“They just left him dangling there!” continued Jessica, “I told him I wouldn’t let him down unless he told me what I wanted to know.”

The bartender continued to laugh, but Jessica took a pause as she looked at her drink.

“And he didn’t tell me anything,” she sighed, “He stuck to his guns. Self-righteous bastard.”

She paused again. The bartender noticed the drop in tone and gave the two some space.

“I should go,” Peter blurted out uncomfortably, “but thanks for returning the hat!”

***

“Alright!” called out Max, “Start yours up!”

Francine Fyre gave a lazy thumbs up from her car and started her engine. Max looked at the jumper cables connecting her car to his and silently wished for this to work. His engine had been failing a lot lately and he was starting to get annoyed. He waited for a bit and then walked into his driver's seat and tried to start the engine. Nothing.

“Damn,” he whispered.

He had enlisted the help of his neighbor Francine Fyre. Francine was a woman with a punk look to her, having several facial piercings and always wearing black lipstick and eyeliner. She always dressed in baggy black pants, black hoodies, and wore the same black beanie every day. She was not happy to be here.

“How long is this going to take?” she asked, “I’ve got other shit to do, you know.”

“Just another few minutes!” shouted Max, getting out to check the engine again.

“You better be right,” said Francine, “Otherwise I’m going to start charging you.”

“Max!” came Betty’s voice.

Max turned around in confusion. What was Betty doing here? The confident reporter was approaching Max as she walked down the sidewalk, dressed for work in a sharp brown pantsuit. She had a stern look on her face. That was never a good sign for Max.

“Babe,” smiled Max, “Hi! Sorry about the other day, I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

“You did anyway,” she said plainly.

“Oh come on,” said Max, rolling his eyes, “Don’t be like that.”

“Max,” she said, “I realized something the other day. When I was interviewing Spider-Man.”

“Seriously!?” scoffed Max, “You came all the way here to talk about that freak?”

“Let me finish,” said Betty sternly, “During the interview, Spider-Man actually acknowledged my hard work and went out of his way to make me laugh. It made me realize something. _You_ have never once made me feel good about my work or even tried to make me smile. All you do is talk about yourself. I’m done with that now. We’re through.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Max, “Babe, let’s not do anything hasty.”

“It’s not hasty,” she said, “I’ve spent the last few days thinking about it. I want to see other people. Good-bye, Max.”

Betty walked away without saying another word. Max turned and stared at her. He watched her round the corner of the block, leaving him mouthing the words “no” over and over again.

“Oof,” scoffed Francine, “Brutal.”

“It’s not fair,” muttered Max, “It’s not fair…”

“You okay, man?” asked Francine.

“It’s not fair!!” screamed Max, slamming the hood shut in rage.

This proved to be a mistake. The cables he slammed the metal hood onto were still running electricity from Francine’s car battery. The moment the trunk slammed down Max felt an intense pain in his forearms as he began to convulse uncontrollably. The pain spread to the rest of Max’s body as a white light filled his vision and he heard a loud bang.

Max came to several yards away in the middle of the street. He looked down at his body. His clothes were all singed. Smoke was still rising from different parts of his body. The smell of burnt fabric and metal filled his nose. He wearily lifted his head and saw Francine crouched next to him, staring at him. Oddly enough, he wasn’t in pain.

“I’m alive…” muttered Max.

“You’re more than alive,” said Francine with a wide smile, “Look.”

She pointed at Max’s hands. He looked at them and saw sparks of electricity dancing around his fingers. He tightened them into a fist and watched as the electricity condensed around his hand, feeling the voltage in his bones.

“You should have seen it!” said Francine excitedly, “When the car shocked you, your body did something. Your eyes started glowing, electricity started coming out of you… Then you shocked the car right back and created this huge explosion of sparks!”

“Am I…” asked Max, “a mutant?”

“Maybe,” said Francine, “I’ve heard of mutant powers lying dormant and then being activated by the proper stimulus. The important question is: how does it feel?”

Max clenched his fist tighter, feeling the electricity build up in his arm and then the center of his body. Francine stared at him intensely, studying his every facial expression. She seemed absolutely captivated by Max, or at least his new powers.

“It feels,” he grinned, “right.”

***

Peter and Jessica stood side by side, holding different railings as the subway chugged along. The relatively crowded car had few seats available, so they stood toward the center of the car as they awaited their destination. Jessica was dressed in her usual flannel, blue jeans, and boots; but Peter had slightly spruced himself up more than usual. He was wearing a white button down shirt he had tucked into his usual baggy jeans as well as a red bow tie and black dress shoes.

“This is stupid,” groaned Jessica.

“You don’t have to come,” said Peter.

“I’ve already put the work into leaving my apartment,” said Jessica, “I’m committed.”

“I bet it’ll be fun,” encouraged Peter, “I’m sure at least one of the comedians will be funny.”

“I’ve been to these sorts of shows,” said Jessica, “_No one_ is ever any good.”

Peter frowned nervously.

“But I’m sure you’ll do fine,” added Jessica.

They were on their way to a comedy night at a bar where Peter was slated to perform standup. The idea was Mary Jane’s. She had always thought Peter was funny, even though no one else seemed to feel the same way. She theorized that Peter just needed more confidence, so she had arranged for this outing.

“Hey,” whispered Peter nervously, “Are those guys on the other end of the car looking at us?”

“Maybe,” shrugged Jessica, “Why?”

“Well people know that Jessica Jones is friends with Spider-Man,” whispered Peter, “What if they recognize you and figure out that it’s me out of costume?”

“Are you seriously worried about that?”

“Yes!”

“Okay,” said Jessica, “I know a way to throw them off.”

“What’s that?”

“One second…”

The mechanical voice came on and announced the arrival at 116th street, about halfway to Peter and Jessica’s destination. Jessica watched the door carefully as it opened. 

“Beat it, nerd!” she shouted.

She gave Peter a powerful shove to the chest, sending him flying out the door and landing him on the platform. We winced in pain as he landed hard on his tailbone, looking up meekly to see Jessica give him a mock wave as the door closed and the train continued on.

Peter slowly got to his feet, rubbing his sore butt. Jessica was right, that probably did the trick. No one would think that she would do that to Spider-Man. Several people on the platform were staring at him. Apparently being flung off of the train had drawn their attention. He nervously looked to see when the next train was coming, only to see that it was quite delayed. 

***

Peter rushed through the door and up the stairs. He was late. Participants signed up ahead of time and were assigned a place in the lineup. Peter knew he was second in line, so his tardiness was worrying. The master of ceremonies was already introducing the first comedian when Peter arrived. Peter waded his way past the crowded tables of bar food and drinks, working his way to the one where he saw Mary Jane and Jessica sitting.

“Nice timing,” smiled Jessica, “We were just talking about you.”

“What about me were you talking about?” asked Peter anxiously.

Jessica shushed him while they sat through the first comedian’s routine.

“Don’t be nervous,” whispered Mary Jane, “The worst that could happen is you don’t get any laughs, right?”

“Right,” Peter assured himself.

“You’re up, kid,” said Jessica as the first comedian finished and got down.

Peter nervously rose to his feet. It was then that he realized his right knee was trembling. His nerves had hit him like a freight train. His heart pounded with anxiety as he walked up and onto the raised stage while trying to look as collected as possible. When he finally reached the microphone and looked out on the room full of people, he nearly froze. He couldn’t believe it; years of fighting supervillains and he was terrified to speak to a crowd of 30 people. After several seconds of silence, he leaned in to the microphone.

“Hi,” he began.

His voice triggered a feedback effect with the mic and the sound system, sending an upsetting shriek of electronic noise across the room. Peter winced as he saw everyone in the audience react to the sound. This was not off to a good start.

“How is everybody tonight?” he asked.

No response.

_It’s okay,_ thought Peter to himself, _The worst thing that could happen is they don’t laugh. I can deal with that._

He continued to stare blankly at the crowd, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly the entire routine he had practiced was gone from his head. He swallowed uncomfortably as he felt his mouth become increasingly dry. Why was this so hard? He made jokes all the time as Spider-Man.

“Get going already!” shouted someone in the crowd.

“Uh, okay,” said Peter, starting to feel the sweat on his forehead, “I got pushed off the train earlier today. New York, am I right?”

Again, no response. Peter’s heart continued to beat faster and faster.

“So anyone here from Empire State University?”

Peter got his hopes up as he heard someone stir in the audience, only to realize it was just a cough. After another few seconds, Mary Jane came to his rescue.

“Me,” she said, raising her hand.

“Cool,” smiled Peter, “So what’s the deal with that clock in the middle of campus, right? Don’t they know we all have smartphones now?”

No response, except for Mary Jane offering him a pity laugh. Frankly, that might have been worse than her staying silent. He knew her well enough to know she didn’t actually find that joke funny. Why couldn’t he remember his routine? Why couldn’t he think of any jokes?

“Get off the stage!” shouted someone.

“No wait,” said Peter, beginning to panic, “I’ve got a good one, just give me a minute…”

“Boo!” shouted someone else.

“I’m sorry,” blurted out Peter, “I really thought I had planned better than this. Just give me a chance to-”

“You suck!”

“Loser!”

Peter winced as a single french fry bounced off his face.

“Hey!” he shouted indignantly, “Who threw that!?”

Now the audience was finally starting to laugh.

“No, wait!” he insisted, “You’re not supposed to laugh at _that_!”

He was freaking out now. His heart felt like a hammer on the inside of his ribcage and he could feel the sweat trickling down his face and back. He looked down to see, to his horror, that large pit stains had formed under each of his arms. His knees started to buckle under the pressure as his whole body shook with anxiety.

He winced as more french fries and bits of bread continued to fly at him from the crowd. This soon escalated to bits of vegetables and finally an entire burger that collided with his chest and smeared grease and ketchup across the front of his white shirt. The entire audience was laughing uproariously now.

Peter stuttered nervously as he looked around. He briefly caught Mary Jane and Jessica Jones’s gaze before running off the stage and out of the bar. Jessica and Mary Jane followed quickly after him. He rushed out onto the sidewalk and keeled over, bracing himself on his knees as he hyperventilated.

“Okay,” said Jessica, “So that… didn’t go so well.”

“That’s an understatement,” wheezed Peter between breaths.

“It’s okay, Tiger,” comforted Mary Jane, placing a hand on his back, “At least we tried.”

“How did you choke so badly?” asked Jessica.

“Hey!” hissed Mary Jane indignantly, almost protectively grabbing Peter as she said it.

“What?” said Jessica, “That’s what happened. Lord knows why, he’s certainly enough of a smartass most of the time.”

“I don’t know,” said Peter, finally catching his breath, “When I’m with the two of you or when I’m wearing the mask, it comes to me so easily. But once Peter Parker is under pressure…”

Jessica and Mary Jane both frowned in sympathy.

Suddenly, Peter stood up straight and pulled his phone out of his pocket. His eyes widened as he read the text.

“Oh no,” he realized, “Betty just texted me. Someone’s attacking The Bugle.”

“Kid, are you sure you’re in the condition to-?”

“Sorry,” shouted Peter as he ran off, “This is actually the perfect excuse to avoid dealing with my emotions right now. Bye!”

“Peter!” shouted Mary Jane, slightly frustrated.

“I’ll text you!” he shouted back.

*** 

“Beeeeeeettttttttttty!” called Max.

He thrust both of his fists forward. He felt the power surge in his stomach, lurching forward and finally springing from his fingertips in the form of a white flash that obliterated the desks in front of him. 

Everyone in the office screamed as the lights flickered again before returning to darkness as Max strode slowly around the room. He was wearing all black and his skin was glowing an eerie bluish white. The glow faded as he allowed his power to die down again.

“I know she’s here,” he growled, “Stop hiding her!”

His voice released a loud electric crackling as he spoke.

“Maxie!” exclaimed a cheerful voice from behind him, “Fancy meeting you here!”

“Spider-Man!” roared Max, pivoting and unleashing a burst of electricity around him.

The Daily Bugle employees all ducked behind cover again as the buzzing sound signalled the incredible static charge building up around Max. He grinned as the lights flickered again, illuminating Spider-Man standing at the entrance to the office across the floor.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” said Max, still crackling, “I’ve been wanting to use these powers on you most of all!”

“Sounds good,” nodded Spider-Man, “What do you say we let these people go and just duke it out, you and me?”

“No!” shouted Max, blasting away two nearby desks with another burst of lightning, “Betty is hiding somewhere here and she WILL pay!”

Max clenched his fists and tensed his muscles, glowing more and more as sparks flew and electricity danced off his skin. Spider-Man could tell he was building up energy. This was bad. Someone could get hurt.

“Everyone run for the door on my mark,” said Spider-Man, squatting down on all fours, “Ready?”

“You can’t save them, Spider-Man!” cried Max.

“NOW!” shouted Spider-Man, leaping into the air.

Max extended his arm to blast Spider-Man with his electricity. Spider-Man’s reflexes were faster, so by the time Max had done so Spider-Man had already webbed a nearby desk and thrown it at the high voltage villain. As fast as Spider-Man was, lightning was faster. Max’s bolt still hit Spider-Man before he reached the ground. Max cried out in pain as the desk broke against his body and knocked him over. 

The employees had heeded Spider-Man’s request and run for the door during the confrontation, all escaping in the confusion. Max shoved the broken desk off of his body as he slowly rose to his feet. Peter tensed as he convulsed on the ground, focusing on maintaining control of his bladder until the convulsing stopped. He sighed with relief when he succeeded. He hated being electrified.

“I’ll consider that justification to use lethal force,” said Max, firing another bolt at Spider-Man.

Spider-Man dodged this one and rolled to the side. He still had to be careful. He didn’t see Betty among those who had escaped. She was still here somewhere. She was Max’s primary target, so she was in the most danger.

“You know, it’s your fault I’m like this!” shouted Max.

“I find that hard to believe, Maxie.”

Max fired another bolt of electricity that Spider-Man dodged.

“Sorry!”exclaimed Spider-Man sarcastically, “You’re right, that nickname hardly suits you anymore. How do you feel about Sparky? Electro?”

Max let out and angry scream as he charged up his electricity and fired an entire stream of bolts in Spider-Man’s direction, forcing the webslinger to leap across the room to dodge it.

“Betty left me because of you!” screamed Max angrily, “You can’t possibly imagine the humiliation!”

“Dude,” sighed Spider-Man, “If you had ANY idea what my life was like, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Now everyone is going to think I’m a loser!” screamed Max, blasting out a window in another attempt to hit Spider-Man.

“Have you considered,” shouted Spider-Man over the sounds of shattering glass and electricity, “that that’s because you’re a loser?”

Max let out another scream of rage, this time running directly at Spider-Man as electricity blasted off of him from all sides. Spider-Man barely had time to let out an “Uh-oh” before retreating into the kitchen around the corner and diving onto the floor. He barely avoided the massive attack as it blasted away chunks of the wall..

“You think you’re so funny…” growled Max, slowly approaching Spider-Man as he lay on the ground, “But who’s laughing now?”

That’s when the water cooler beside Max toppled over. Max and Spider-Man both turned and saw it tip just before the water spilled out onto the floor across Max’s feet. Max screamed as his entire body began to shake and convulse before a huge burst of sparks released from his body. When the smoke cleared, Max was burned and singed all over. He collapsed into the puddle as Spider-Man saw Betty standing behind where the water cooler had been.

“Thank you!” shouted Spider-Man with relief, “I REALLY hate being electrified!”

“No,” said Betty, helping Spider-Man to his feet, “Thank YOU Spidey; you saved all those people!”

“Still,” said Spider-Man, “If it weren’t for you I’d be lit up like a Christmas tree right now.”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Keep that silly attitude all the time,” said Betty, “Back there you were running for your life and STILL cracking jokes. Not only that, they were funny!”

“Wait,” realized Spider-Man suddenly, “Say that again.”

“You’re funny, Spider-Man.”

“That’s it!” he declared, running off and shouting back, “I have to go! Thanks again!”

“Wait!” began Betty, but she snapped her fingers in frustration as Spider-Man ran out of range.

_Damn,_ she thought, _Missed my chance. And here I thought he had a thing for me._

***

“He wants us here?”

“Yes.”

“In this bar?”

“Yes.”

“The one he got booed out of?”

“That’s what he said, Jessica.”

Jessica and Mary Jane sat at their table in the audience of the comedy club, which was nearing the end of its lineup. Peter had sent Mary Jane a text shortly ago requesting that she and Jessica meet him back at their seats in the bar. They had complied and even ordered some food. Now Jessica was growing impatient. She let out a huff and crossed her arms.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the MC, returning onstage to the mic, “Thank you for joining us this evening! It’s gotten to that time of night, so we’ll be wrapping things up-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” shouted someone from the back of the room, “Hold on a minute, buddy! I still haven’t gone!”

Everyone turned back to see the source of the comment. Standing in the back of the room was none other than Spider-Man, but with a black suit jacket and black bowtie on over his costume. His appearance alone was enough to earn a few snickers from the crowd.

“Um…” muttered the MC, “Is this part of some…”

Spider-Man leapt forward into the air, flipped as he flew over the audience, and landed on the stage right next to the MC.

“Oh my God,” realized the MC, “It’s really you.”

“Thanks pal,” he said, patting him on the back and taking his mic, “Mind if I borrow this for a minute?”

The MC nodded slowly and walked off the stage. Far be it from him to argue with Spider-Man. The audience realized what was happening and began to murmur with excitement. Soon applause began to erupt as it became clear that this was the actual Spider-Man.

“Thank you all for coming out here tonight,” said Spider-Man, “Sorry to show up so late, but I had to carpool with Mysterio and that guy takes FOREVER to get ready. He can never decide what fishbowl to wear!”

The audience began to laugh. Jessica and Mary Jane smiled as they finally got to see Peter showing off his talent, even if he had to wear the mask to do it.

“People always ask me what it’s like being a queer superhero,” he said, “and I tell them it’s a lot like being a straight superhero, except more people ask me if I’ve seen ‘Modern Family.’”

He continued, the crowd hanging on his every word. He was animated, moving about the stage and addressing audience members individually. He would respond to comments from the audience and always followed it up with another good punchline.

“Hey!” shouted someone from the audience, “That’s Jessica Jones! Don’t you two know each other?”

The audience’s attention turned to Jessica, who shifted around uncomfortably. She did not like this many people looking at her.

“We do!” responded Spider-Man, “It’s great, actually. It’s sort of like being friends with Sam Spade if he had an even worse attitude!”

The audience laughed. Jessica was honestly impressed. Peter almost never teased her in front of other people, especially a crowd. His confidence must have really been strong right now. Jessica smiled to herself and stood up.

“Hey!” she shouted to the whole room, “You all wanna know how he and I met?”

“Jessica!” realized Spider-Man, suddenly speaking in a scared and hushed tone, “Don’t!”

Jessica looked around. All eyes were on her. All she had to do was tell the story and everyone would love it. Spider-Man wouldn’t have been able to hide his embarrassment; they would have all have known it was true. He stood staring at her, frozen in anticipation.

“When we first met,” she said slowly, watching Spider-Man squirm, “I was cornered by someone who wanted me dead. If Spider-Man hadn’t shown up, that might have been the end for me. This guy probably saved my life.”

Jessica could almost hear Spider-Man let out a sigh of relief as the audience quietly murmured in admiration at the story. She couldn’t go through with embarrassing him right now. Not when he was just starting to feel confident like this. It was refreshing to see him succeeding. She figured she’d let him have this one.

“You forgot to mention the part where I fell and landed in a huge puddle,” added Spider-Man, earning a laugh.

Jessica nodded with a smile and sat back down. Her and Mary Jane happily listened to the rest of his routine.

***

Peter, Jessica, and Mary Jane walked down the street together. They had just left the comedy club after Peter had hastily changed back into his street clothes in a back alley. All three of them were still grinning as they distanced themselves from the other patrons who had attended the show.

“That’s a cute story,” said Mary Jane, “about how you two met.”

Jessica chortled. Peter blushed.

“What?”

“That’s the story of how I met Spider-Man,” said Jessica, “The story of how I met Peter Parker is a little different.”

“Really?”

Jessica looked over and could see Peter was still blushing.

“Yeah,” said Jessica, “but maybe we can tell you that one another time.”

Peter looked back and her with an appreciative smile.

“How much do I owe you?” Jessica asked Mary Jane, who had put the check on her card.

“For the burger and the Coke...” said Mary Jane, pausing to think, “$15 if you account for tax and tip.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Peter suddenly, “Did you say Coke? As in, not ‘whiskey and’?”

“Yeah,” said Mary Jane as Jessica began to scowl, “Why?”

“Jessica!” said Peter excitedly, “That’s great! I can’t believe-”

“Watch it, kid,” she said, “I wasn’t feeling it tonight, that’s all.”

“Wow,” grinned Peter, “Giving me compliments in public, taking the night off from drinking… If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re a-”

“Nope!” said Jessica abruptly.

“You are!” insisted Peter, getting in front of Jessica, “Admit it, Jessica Jones. You’re a hero!”

Jessica looked at Peter. His smile had become insufferable. He was grinning like he was in complete control. That’s when Jessica remembered that she was very capable of changing that.

“Hey, Red,” she said, “Maybe this IS a good time to talk about how I met your boyfriend.”

“Wait a minute...” realized Peter.

Jessica had already moved in on him. She grabbed one of his wrists and placed her hand on the back of his shoulder before shoving him roughly into the wall of the building beside them. It was enough to make Mary Jane let out a gasp.

“Picture this,” smiled Jessica as she pressed Peter’s face into the wall, “I’m spying on this kid, trying to figure out how he gets all of his photos for The Bugle. That’s when Flash and his buddies showed up and surrounded him. The rest went something like THIS!”

“Jessica-!”

Peter opened his mouth to plead a moment too late. Jessica had already reached into his pants and grabbed two fistfuls of the back of his compression shorts. She bent her knees and then yanked upward as she stood up straight. The white fabric stretched for the heavens. It easily stretched past Peter’s head before becoming taut, at which point Peter found himself hoisted clear off the ground. He let out a high pitch squeal as the thin fabric crushed his crotch and raced into his butt. 

After several painful seconds of tugging, Jessica released the elastic and let Peter down. She laughed and took a proud step back. Peter groaned. Jessica hadn’t put _all_ her strength into the wedgie, but she had pulled harder than any normal human being was capable of pulling. The amount of underwear sticking out of the back of Peter’s pants looked positively ridiculous. It was all sorts of bunched up and practically flopping around from how stretched out it was. As Peter tugged at the seat of his pants, Mary Jane let out a quiet laugh.

“MJ!” whined Peter indignantly.

“Sorry Tiger,” she snickered, “but at least you’re cute when you’re embarrassed!”

Peter managed a small smile, although he was still subtly trying to dig the shorts out of his butt.

**Author's Note:**

> Because the laws of Spider-Man dictate every version of Max Dillon have a unique and bizarrely specific backstory


End file.
